


Poetry In Motion

by oliveriley



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliveriley/pseuds/oliveriley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of a poem I wrote:</p><p>
  <i>i want to kiss your lips<br/>and send my love blazing down your spine<br/>i want to sear it into you<br/>i love you, i love you, i love you</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry In Motion

It was a slow night. Everything was slow, from the snow that fell in lazy, thick clumps and the slow sound it made when it hit the white blanket already on the ground; the slow rise and fall of the womens’ chests as they lounged in the living room; the slow kisses that Katniss started at Johanna’s collarbones and worked their way at a crawl to her lips. The fire, too, burned in a hushed crackling flickering that painted the walls oranges and reds and ignited the slow ball of desire that nested in their stomachs as Katniss explored Johanna’s body and Johanna’s fingers curled into Katniss’s hair. The way Johanna’s back arched beneath Katniss and the way she gasped and the way Katniss kissed and the way they touched was all in slow motion.

But the way that the olive-skinned woman pressed a final kiss to the temple of the paler woman’s head, the way she whispered I love you into her bare chest, just above her heart, that was not slow. The way they loved each other was consuming and undefinable and roaring and roiling and it seared them with each other’s lips and teeth and nails and they crashed together like waves and shore and trees and licking flames and they ebbed at each other’s insecurities. There was nothing languid or lazy or slow about the way the girl on fire set the girl so afraid of water ablaze; there was nothing slow about how they burned up the fear the other held so that it evaporated and no longer hung in the air like smog over the Capitol’s streets. The only think that snaked through their house like smoke from the hearth or the scent of fresh wildflowers was the way they said each other’s names, softly and together like poetry set in motion.


End file.
